


The Problem is You

by Zyzzyva



Series: My Name is Brutus [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, PLEASE read the tags!!, anyways the stream today destroyed me & i wrote a fic in one sitting, implied panic attack, implied suicidal ideation, it's my ao3 account & i get to choose the hyperfixation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:02:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27602513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zyzzyva/pseuds/Zyzzyva
Summary: He thought the last hours would be more impressive. He imagined a brilliant rebellion, an epic fight between good and evil.He didn't expect this.
Relationships: Floris | Fundy & Jschlatt, Floris | Fundy & Phil Watson, Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot
Series: My Name is Brutus [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020157
Comments: 11
Kudos: 182





	The Problem is You

**Author's Note:**

> the google doc for this fic is titled "roblox death noise" & i feel like you need to know that.

Sometimes Fundy wonders if he’s cursed. Sometimes he wonders what sort of god has hexed him, made his life so fucking miserable.

Because what other explanation is there? 

Is he not important enough? Has he done something to deserve this? Does he deserve everyone turning on him, everyone leaving him behind or pushing him aside?

His dad left him, his uncles left him, his coworkers left him…

And he left his president.

No. 

Schlatt deserved it. He deserved to be abandoned, because he’d killed Tubbo. Everyone had made that quite clear.

(Fundy had wanted to kill Wilbur, back when he’d left him in Manburg. He’d burned that flag instead.)

(Maybe he understood where the president was coming from. Maybe he did.)

Said president is currently banging on his chest with weak fists and a broken bottle. The glass shatters on his chestplate, all but useless on the netherite, and Fundy can’t even bring himself to flinch. Schlatt is stumbling, mumbling nonsense to himself and everyone else, this close to collapsing against Fundy.

He stops himself from grabbing his arm, helping him to sit down like he did so often when he was still a part of the cabinet. It’s never been this bad, Quackity could always talk him down before. 

Fundy wonders if it’s somehow his fault, this pathetic display.

As much as he hates Schlatt (and does he really?), he doesn’t want to see him like this. He doesn’t want everyone else to see him like this, if he somehow ends up living through this encounter. It’s humiliating. 

He feels distinctly sorry for him, angry and accepting all at once. He deserves this, for the betrayal, Schlatt deserves the vengeance for his spying, as pathetic as it may be, as weak as it may be, because he betrayed a sickly, dying man, and he deserves every bit of the sad barrage. 

He pities him. 

(He pities his father.)

(The similarities are clear as fucking day.)

As soon as he thinks Schlatt has exhausted his pathetic assault against his armor, he turns his attention instead to his ex-fiance, and the two of them are shouting again.

(They were always shouting, back when Fundy was a part of the cabinet. He’s pretty sure they didn’t know he could hear. He’d always try to take Tubbo out when they started, but he knows they all heard it.)

Quackity pushes the president, and he stumbles, almost completely falls to the floor. Fundy grabs his elbow, and he’s rewarded with the final shards of glass against his chest and weak but biting words. 

Schlatt is slouched in the middle of all the crowd, all of their bows aimed at him, this close to collapsing. He points a shaking finger at Fundy.

He fixes Schlatt in the eye, for a small, quick second, and Fundy sees nothing but sorrow, nothing but a broken, broken man, and Fundy feels like he’s going to throw up. There is nothing in his goatlike eyes but the sort of sadness that only comes with betrayal, and for a second more it solidifies into anger.

It’s easier to be angry, Fundy has found, because then you don’t have to confront the fact that the problem might be you.

“You know what I am that you’ll never be?” Schlatt rasps. The fake bravado and arrogance is the last thing to remain. It fools everyone else, but it has never fooled him, because he learned it from his father.

Fundy decides to humor him, one last time. He feels surprisingly at peace.

“What are you?” He asks with a sigh. He’s exhausted. Schlatt was an asshole, but he was nice to him. Had been nice to him. He’d betrayed him, and look where it’s gotten them. He’s exhausted. He’s cursed

“I’m a man.” 

It hurts, like somehow the fragments of glass had crossed his armor and into his heart. It does. Schlatt doesn’t know his history, he’s certain of that, doesn’t know those words will hurt as much as they do. But all the same, it hurts like hell. 

And _that’s_ where Wilbur decides to step in. He wants to be grateful, but he can’t muster a modicum of respect for that man, for his father. 

Wilbur hits Schlatt, clean across the face, and Schlatt falls back against a wall, using it to brace himself and stop himself from falling to the floor. Wilbur looks at Fundy, like he wants him to thank him, and Fundy says nothing. 

He stares at his father for a second, until a pained gasp distracts him. He snaps his gaze up and sees Schlatt holding his chest.

“Schlatt?” He asks quietly, like a number of them do. He’d almost forgotten they were there. He can’t help but cringe. This doesn’t need an audience.

“Do you smell burning toast?” The president asks, and Fundy gasps. Quackity cries something. Wilbur echoes his words.

As if he fucking cares. 

And Schlatt gasps, coughs, makes a couple of ungodly choking noises.

And he dies. 

His president dies.

The only person who has ever paid attention to him.

The only person who has trusted him with anything.

He’s dead on the floor, and Fundy feels hollow.

Wilbur whoops, the audience makes a couple jokes, they move out of the building until only Quackity and he are left.

The two of them and a dead body.

Quackity crouches down next to the dead man and lets out a shaky laugh. He doesn’t seem to realize Fundy is still there. He says a few words in Spanish, and then a few more. He reaches out a shaking hand and runs it along Schlatt’s hair and horns, more gently than Fundy has ever seen him. When he speaks again, after a few quiet minutes, it’s just loudly enough for Fundy to be able to hear.

“I’m so fucking sorry, babe. But this is on you. I’m sorry.” He looks up, and fixes Fundy with an empty look. Fundy’s ears twitch in anxiety.

“Your turn.”

And Quackity is gone.

He’s cursed, isn’t he?

Fundy sighs, long and hard, and crouches next to the body in turn.

He doesn’t know what to say. There’s so much and nothing, all at once in a swirling pool of emotions that he doesn’t know how to articulate, doesn’t think he ever could. He feels his chest tighten, and for a few long seconds he wonders whether he’ll die right here, next to a defunct dead president. 

But it’s just tears. A few drip off his nose and onto a wrinkled suit below him, and he pulls away.

He waits to join the crowd when his fur is dry and he’s not still sniffling, and sees Wilbur giving a speech. His father fixes him with a long look, and Fundy looks away.

Wilbur rescinds his presidency. Fundy is expectant while he gives his speech, hopeful beyond what he can ever hope to express.

His father picks Tommy.

…

It’s always fucking Tommy. 

Why him? 

Fundy is here, and he’s available, and he’s the fucking President’s son, was a part of Schlatt’s cabinet. 

And he chooses Tommy.

Tommy turns it down, and Fundy tries to squash his hopes once again.

And Wilbur chooses fucking Tubbo.

Fundy has nothing against the guy, but he’s still fucking furious, wants to run up and grab the mic, wants to scream to the skies and most importantly his father.

He has to be cursed.

Tubbo agrees, prepares to give an improvised speech. Fundy notices WIlbur slip away. He considers following him. He’ll never follow him again.

He can’t face him now. Later, he’ll talk to him. He will.

(He really, really doesn’t want to.)

And in the middle of celebrations, in the middle of yet another inauguration, Wilbur destroys it all.

The ground shakes, the buildings crumble, and Fundy feels like he’s going to die, feels like he deserves it, just for a moment. He grabs Karl from beside him, and they get to safety as quickly as they can.

Fundy sees the button room where the wall has eroded, and he _swears_ Wilbur catches his eyes, sees nothing but resignation and relief in his eyes.

(Fundy wants to pearl there, wants to punch his father, wants to shake him by the shoulders and knock some sense into him.)

(He doesn’t think he can.)

And he’s cursed, and that’s all there is to it. Wilbur has betrayed him, one final time, has solidified the train of betrayals. Fundy wants to hill him, but he doesn’t get the chance.

And his grandfather kills his father, stabs him with Wilbur’s own sword, and Fundy knows this is it.

And his uncle spawns withers, and Fundy can barely force himself to fight back. He’s exhausted.

And his muscles ache, his brain feels slow, and he can barely see through the tears in his eyes. 

After the withers are gone, he sits on a piece of rubble-- he doesn’t even know what the remains are from, anymore-- and he puts his head in his hands.

Tubbo squeezes his shoulder, and Fundy can’t muster a smile. 

A group gets together, gives him the role of foreman--

And isn’t that just the same as Wilbur did, as Schlatt did? Give him a meaningless, menial job, keep him busy, keep him out of the way, keep him out of their hair--

Philza is in front of him, waving a hand in front of his face. Fundy blinks at him, his tail twitching behind him.

“Fundy?” Philza asks. “You’re… my grandson, yeah?”

Fundy nods. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t remember ever meeting Philza before. Wilbur didn’t talk much of his childhood, didn’t talk much of Philza, or even much about Techno or Tommy, and they were his uncles.

And now he’ll never be able to hear anything about them. Ever.

He shivers, and Phil sits beside him, rubs his back for a moment.

“Um, I get this is awkward,” Phil starts, sighing. “I guess I should start with an ‘I’m sorry.’”

Fundy starts. No one says sorry to him. No one apologizes to him, not ever. Wilbur certainly never did.

“What for?” He asks, turning to face him. Phil gives him a faint, sad smile.

“I’m sorry you had to see all that. You saw me kill him.” Phil still has blood on his face, still has his _father’s_ blood on his face, but Fundy can’t help but trust him.

But he’s cursed. 

If he ends up trusting in him too much, Phil will betray him. He already knows.

So he pulls away. 

“Yeah. It’s okay.” Fundy stands, and he walks away.

As he’s walking through the wreckage, through the remains of his home. He was born here, and Wilbur didn’t care. 

(He wants to chop down L’Mantree right then and there.)

(He must be his father’s son.)

He catches Dream’s eye, and Dream waves. Fundy can see the ring gleaming on his finger.

(His father never knew he was engaged. At least now he doesn’t need to worry about that reaction.)

He’s cursed, and Dream will betray him. Dream has already betrayed him. 

Fundy walks past him, and towards the ghosts of L’Manburg.

**Author's Note:**

> give fundy a break 2020... 
> 
> i haven't been able to think about anything but mc for like a month & it's fully rotting my brain. on the upside... content? 
> 
> the stream today was absolutely phenomenal & i'm so happy with the finale. it was the perfect ending for this arc, & i'm very excited to see where it goes from here. hopefully someone will give fundy a hug. 
> 
> anyways!
> 
> here's my [ ko-fi ](https://yaoyoyoyo.tumblr.com/post/623129308189327360/i-just-finished-setting-up-a-ko-fi-please-check)!  
> here's my [ information on writing commissions ](https://yaoyoyoyo.tumblr.com/post/631112745941712896/hello-ive-finally-decided-to-officially-open)!  
> here's my [ tumblr ](https://yaoyoyoyo.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> let me know if any of the links break, and i'll do my best to fix them!  
> please leave some comments, and i'm always, always open to constructive criticism :).


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